


the only conclusion

by cinderlily



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, TFLN - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: TFLN: (989) I miss your penis. I'm telling you this as a friend, like its just a really great penis. You should be proud of it.Tyler drunk texts Jamie while they are separated for a week in the summer.





	the only conclusion

**Author's Note:**

> Really the only reason I put the warning up to Mature is language. So if you don't mind the F word and stuff. You know. That's about it. 
> 
> <3 To Laynie for the love.

Jamie doesn’t know when the line in the sand forms but it goes from him spending most of the summers in Canada to spending most of the summer in Dallas and somehow Tyler joins in. It’s his home, after all, and he gets sick of going back up to Canada and spending a good chunk of the summer by himself as his family is busy doing you know, grown up shit. Granted he does have Jordie but even Jordie seems to get to the phase of growing up. He’d finally found a girl who wasn’t a crazy bad idea for him and Jamie was excited for him. 

He and Tyler spend time training together in the summers in Dallas, sometimes go on trips to Colorado for high endurance training and sometimes go on trips. It’s nice but he likes the regular shit better. Grocery shopping and doing work for the not for profits he liked. 

He also liked when he and Tyler would end up curled on the couch making out and ‘watching’ movies. They aren’t dating or anything but it’s nice to have a friend that is … you know. Something to him. Or whatever. 

So on the rare occasion that he’s in Canada visiting his family, he really does feel like a true visitor. His room feels like a relic, even though his mom has thankfully finally gotten sheets without the sports prints on them and taken down his hockey posters. Everything else feels like just one big reminder that it isn’t home anymore. It’s what was. 

What’s left of his friend group took him out one night, grabbing him and telling him that he wasn’t too good for a night of beer and shibby and he respected that but most of them were keeping it to one beer or two. He was astounded to find that his friends had _families_ to go home to. He’d gone to most of the weddings, seen the birth announcements but still. There was knowing and there was _knowing_. 

During a break from the hockey, where he dominated, _naturally_ , he checked his phone to find a series of texts from Tyler. Who, apparently, was not having the two beer max that his friends were having. 

T: “ _Hey._

_Hey._

_Dude. Answer ur phone._

_U suck._

_Okay, jerk._

_I miss ur dick. It’s a good dick, man. I can tell you as a friend. A+ dick. I miss it._

_U shuld b proud of it._

_Also as not a friend. Like I miss ur dick as more than a friend but I miss u a more than a friend. I miss u as a more than friend._

_That made sense in my head._

_Fuck, March taking phone. By_ ” 

Taking a moment, Jamie paused to look at his phone. It was barely 9 o’clock where he was, but closer to one in Boston where Marchy and Tyler were hanging out. 

To say he was a little startled would be the understatement of the year. 

He was pretty sure that he would have choked had he been sipping on his beer but he was thankfully not. His friends were still looking at him, though, with turned heads and shit eating grin. 

“Ah, has Big Benn fell?” his buddy from grade one Grant asked. 

He blinked owlishly at his friends. “Uh, what?” 

“Hughes has been trying to get your attention for like two minutes, fucker,” Grant shoved him. “But you’ve been staring at your phone. What’s their name?”

“No one,” he said and he knew the freaking instant he said it he’d just dived into a giant pool of shit. The deep end as well. All of the guys were looking at him like he’d handed them the Stanley Cup. 

They all talked over each other, roasting him and grilling him at the same time. He had no idea what most were saying but pulled out questions about name, age, if they lived in Texas, or if they were keeping him from getting some right that second. He carefully locked his phone down and slipped it into his pocket cause it was only time before one of them got the bright idea to grab it from him and check the name. 

Not that he had Tyler under his full name, but T wasn’t exactly rocket science, especially if they read the texts before the drunken ones. He put his hands up. 

“Guys, uh, I’m … it’s not like serious?” 

“Screw you,” Neil threw a can in his general direction. “Not serious. You ARE serious. You planned out your kids' names with Hannah Locklin when you were twelve and she didn’t know your name.” 

He closed his mouth. Freaking Hannah Locklin. She was so sweet and kind and perfect until she got to the age where she liked guys. He never stood a chance. But he still contended they would have had cute kids. He had her friended on FaceBook. She was married to a real estate guy and had two perfect little girls. 

“Okay, _they_ aren’t serious. Or …. weren’t? I mean. Fuck. I just got some texts that were. You know. Serious. Well, for them. For normal people, it might be more of a cry for help.” 

“Well, what we talking here. Boy or girl? Cause you know, it makes a difference.” 

He looked at the core group of guys around him and marveled at the fact that he had kind of lucked out with the dumb dudes he picked when he was too young to know better. They’d known he was bi from age 13 before he left for billeting and they were chill with it. Which was crazy. Legitimately. Granted, Luke was gay and they’d dragged his husband Oliver into the whole mess years ago. 

“Guy,” he said. 

Luke leveled a look at him from down the row. “Teammate?” 

Seriously. Pool of shit, deep end. Zero floaties nearby. This was a bad game of twenty questions. He kept silent, but silence was pretty damn loud when it came to that question. 

“Jamie. Jamie. Tell me,” Luke said, pleadingly. “Tell me it’s not a teammate and not the particular one who I already know it is.” 

“Would you like me to lie?” 

From beside him, Oliver leaned forward. “Fuck me. YOU GET TO SCREW TYL—“ 

As some sort of blessing Luke smacked his hand over his husband’s mouth. “We’re outside, Ollie. People can _hear_. Jesus, you’re worse than Kylie and she’s two.” 

“Yo,” Grant said from beside him. “Really?” 

Jamie brushed his eyelids with his thumbs. “Yeah. Kind of.” 

“There is no ‘kind of’.” 

“I told you, we weren’t _serious_. Aren’t… I mean. We haven’t been, okay?” 

Grant looked at Luke and Oliver, who looked at Neil, who looked at Mike (Hughes) and they all looked at him. 

“Not serious. Yeah _fucking_ right,” Neil laughed. “You talk to those dogs. He calls you their _good dad_ , right, cause you spoil them?” 

He made a face at Neil. It wasn’t the EXACT truth because half the time he would call TYLER out for spoiling them and he’d get called the ‘mean dad’ but … yeah. A little too close for comfort. 

“And the text?” Oliver asked. 

“Which text?” he tried. Grant smacked him in the back of the head. 

Luke rolled his eyes. “The magical text that took you from ‘not serious’ to doe eyes at your iPhone’.” 

He hated when his friends called him on his doe eyes. Like he could control DNA or the fact that he kind of showed his emotions through them. He tilted his head and measured what would be the best way to work his way through this. He was _not_ telling the dick part. He wasn’t going to humble brag it, even if it would be a nice confidence booster, he had a shred of dignity. 

“It was a drunk text,” he said. “Which probably means it doesn’t count.” 

“BULLSHIT!” Grant said, hands cupping around his mouth. 

Luke looked at him like he might kill him. To be fair, they were outside his house. Even with the baby monitor nearby, and the distance between them, it was patently uncool. “Remind me to come to your house and wake up your three.” 

“Sorry,” Grant shrugged. “But that was some pretty patented bullshit. Drunk texts are like. Three times more serious than sober.” 

Oliver nodded. “Truth. I mean, I drunk texted this dumbass twice to tell him I loved him before he believed it.” 

“Your exact words were you ‘luv’ed me. L-U-V.” 

“ _Druuuunk_.” 

“Guys,” Neil snapped his fingers. “Magic life-changing texts in Benn’s court, focus. What did he say, dude?” 

Jamie almost didn’t want to say it as it sounded lamer than he thought even in his head. “He said he missed me in a more than friend way?” 

“Shit yeah!” Grant said, a lot quieter than the last time. “You’ve got to call him… Tell him you want him in a more than friends way. Then we can have a fucking rocker at your wedding. Cause there is no one left.” 

“You hopeless romantic,” Luke rolled his eyes. 

Grant rolled his eyes. “Like you weren’t thinking it. Fuck. I thought you’d never find someone. You were Dallas’ hottest bachelor, dude. How were you not knee deep in pu— genitalia? Wow. That just sounds gross.” 

Jamie groaned. “I hate all of you.” 

Neil handed him another can of beer and nudged him with his foot. “Get it, Benn.” 

“Not in front of all you,” he said, aghast. 

Luke sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, jerk. You are allowed in the house, but you wake up Kylie, I will text pictures of you from when you bleached your hair and it came out orange.” 

He kept the fact that Tyler had no room for ‘ugly hair’ talk but nodded and got up from the deck chair he was on and followed Luke in. He pulled his phone out to check for any new texts but there weren’t. Instead, he saw the background of his phone, Marshall and Cash curled up in a puppy pile from earlier in the year. 

He was such a fucking idiot sometimes. 

“Should I even be doing this while he’s still drunk?” he asked Luke, half asking to put it off a little while longer. 

Luke put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s not going to resolve tonight and hell, dude might forget about it tomorrow. But if you put it off till tomorrow, are you actually going to do this?” 

“When did you become a Zen Master?” 

He got a shrug. “Girls at work think I’m their gay best friend. I talk about relationship bullshit so much it feels like I should be Dr. Drew. Upside? Free babysitting. Don’t say stupid shit, he probably will fuck this up and I will kill him. But you know, I’ll wait till you get the cup.” 

“Thanks?” he said to Luke’s retreating back. Luke put a hand up. 

He stared at his phone and he thought about just faking it. They wouldn’t be able to tell, he could just let it lie and maybe, possibly, this could just be a thing he and Tyler didn’t talk about. That could work. Or not. 

He hit send and it went straight to voicemail. It shouldn’t exactly shock him or anything, he did say Marchy was going to take his phone. He hung up before the beep and stared at his phone for a long minute. He had the other number on his phone, he’d had it for a while, from another trip where Tyler and Marchand had gone off to be idiots together. He scrolled through and found it, hit send and waited. 

It only rang twice before it was answered. “Look, man. He’s pretty freaking drunk…” 

Marchand sounded pretty lucid for this time of night and the background was suspiciously quiet.

“Are you guys at home?” 

There was a pause before Marchy answered. “I took him home. He was about four seconds from Puck Daddy and we’ve seen what that’s worth. He’s currently curled up in his bed, fully clothed.” 

“You sober?” 

“Mostly.” 

Jamie swallowed, opened his mouth and then closed it. He wasn’t sure how he was going to phrase the next question. It seemed like no matter what he said or asked there was a high possibility of him ending up being wrong. 

“You okay Jamie?” 

_Fuck it_. 

“So was it _only_ cause he was drunk?” 

Marchand let out a groan. “Aww, fuck me, Benn. Don’t do this to the kid. Seriously.” 

“Do what to ‘ _the kid_ ’?” Jamie said, a little indignantly. “He’s 25, you know?” 

“Don’t give him hope if there isn’t hope,” Brad said. “He’s gone down that road a couple times and none have turned up roses.” 

Jamie’s eyebrows furrowed. He wished he hadn’t left the extra beer outside. He looked at his empty hand and almost willed it to just manifest cause alcohol could make this make a little more sense. “He told me he was not a ‘serious type’. He said that he was young and liked to be with who he wanted to be with.” 

“ **He** is kind of a box of tools about seventy-five percent of the time but somehow **he** has a dorky heart of gold. Scientific experiments have been performed, nothing has been conclusive but … trust me when I say he _is_ the serious kind of guy.” 

He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the idea Brad Marchand felt like he had more of a lock on Tyler than he did or that he had been not dating Tyler for what felt like forever when there was a possibility to actually be dating him. 

He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, summoning courage in the way he did the moment before a possibly raucous hit. “ _I am a serious type of guy_.” 

There was silence, a long one, and then a quick burst of manic laughter. “You have got to be shitting me here, Benn. I mean, yeah you’ve got the look of the guy who asks for the girl’s dad’s permission, but Ty has all but said you would rather eat flames than go to the side of monogamy.” 

“With someone else, yeah,” Jamie admitted. To be fair, he **had** said that to Tyler. But it was like six months into their friendship, well before they were dating and mostly because Tyler was pushing him at girls rapid fire. “I don’t want to be monogamous with some random. Or like just anyone. I want to be monogamous with someone I really like on. I take … time.” 

“ _FUCK YOU_ ,” Marchand bellowed. “ _Years_ , fucker. Years. I get to spend my time hearing about your perfect ass and your dick, man. I know more about your dick than any heterosexual man should know about anyone’s dick and I’m counting his own kids’.” 

Jamie was blushing, naturally, who wouldn’t when some dude you only marginally know starts telling you he knows things about your body he shouldn’t know. But he was kind of getting this weird ball in his stomach, a ball that was filled with possibilities and futures and … freaking monogamy. With Tyler. A monogamous relationship with the fucker who he’d held up as his bar for _years_. 

“I apologize for the oversharing? I mean, Tyler’s oversharing, I’m not going to overshare…” Jamie started.

Marchand stopped him. “You’ve met Tyler, right? Like, clothing optional?” 

“Ducky,” Jamie said, half thinking and he got a laugh in return. 

“Okay,” Marchand exhaled. “Listen up. You’ve got twenty-four hours. After that, I am going to tell Tyler that you are a useless piece of shit and he deserves better. Which, by the way, is not out of my wheelhouse even after the twenty-four hours because FUCK YOU if you hurt Segs. He’s young.” 

Jamie rolled his eyes. “He’s four years younger than you.” 

“A child,” Marchand pushed through, not listening. “And he doesn’t know any better than to trust you and if you hurt that trust, let’s just say I’ll live up to my name and you and the boards will become very best friends. And no one will be able to prove a single thing.” 

Jamie didn’t point out that that wasn’t that big of a threat as he was a professional hockey player and that was kind of his life because well… Marchand still kind of frightened him. Not that that would go any further than his own brain. 

“I’m in Canada.” 

“Twenty-four hours, Young Benn,” Marchand said and the phone went the silent of being hung up on. He looked at his phone and groaned. He wiped at his face and thought seriously about just letting Marchand tell Tyler he wasn’t good enough for him. 

Cause maybe he wasn’t. 

He hadn’t seen what was becoming clear in his mind to be obvious to everyone BUT him. His phone pinged and it was from Brad’s number, a text of his exact location. 

He opened the text from Tyler and looked at it for a second, smiling slightly and then feeling the ball in his stomach rise to something stuck in his throat. Fuck, he was so fucked. 

“ _Miss you as more than a friend, too._

 _Trust me._ ” 

He breathed in and looked at his phone. It was easing towards 10, which he was pretty sure when half his friends turned into freaking pumpkins. He wasn’t entirely sure what the fuck he was doing but he knew he had till just before one Eastern Standard Time to do it. 

Unsurprisingly he walked out to a wall of noise from all of his friends, even Luke who seemed to disregard the fact that his daughter was sleeping. 

“I’ve got to get to Boston before this time tomorrow,” he said, almost too calmly if he really thought about it. “How do I do that?” 

They all looked at Neil, who worked for Air Canada, technically he worked in the accounting department but whatever that was what they had to work with. 

“I never get to be the rescuer,” Neil grinned, taking his phone out of his pocket. He went off to one corner of the lawn while the other guys went back to questions. 

“Did you talk to Tyler?” 

Jamie shook his head. “I think he passed out. Marchy answered. And read me the riot act.” 

“What the fuck?” Oliver said. “How were you supposed to read Seguin’s mind? ESP is NOT an STD. You took him at his word, right?” 

Luke put a hand on Jamie’s arm. “He told you he didn’t want serious right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How long ago?” 

Jamie looked somewhere above Luke’s left eyebrow. “Uh. Maybe two years ago?” 

“YOU FUCK NUT.” 

From the background they heard the small stirrings of a kid and then the louder more persistent, “PAPA PAPA, MOOK?” 

Grant buckled over laughing, grabbing at his side and turning instantly bright red. It was kind of beautiful. Oliver, to his credit, rolled his eyes and walked towards the house, not before looking at Luke and pointing directly at him.

“You tell me everything later. Every single freaking thing.” 

Luke tilted his head and shrugged, looking a little like a bad puppy. When he finally looked back up he was looking back at Jamie. 

“You don’t trust what some dude said years ago,” Luke said. “I said four years ago I wasn’t sure about kids and now Kylie is everything for me. Life changes. Time changes, Jesus, I knew you going off to hockey was a little stunting but um. Come on? We’re heading towards 30, man.” 

Jamie frowned. “You are two years older than me.” 

“Meh, time is relative,” Grant said, seemingly calmed from the tittering laughter that had followed his outburst. “I’m more your age and I agree with Luke. Use your freaking words.” 

Neil walked over. “Okay, if you fuckers would like to stop with the Dr. Phil, I have Jamie on a flight in about seven hours so he _might_ want to get his ass in gear. Just saying. Hero Neil.” 

Jamie grabbed Neil in a hug, not something he could say he did that often. He pulled back and looked at Hughes. 

“You drove,” he said. “Sober?”

“Yes, _ma_ ,” he sighed. “Let’s go.” 

As he got into Hughes car he saw Neil shoot his hands up and scream, “YATTA!” 

He was pretty fucking lucky when it came to those nerds. 

* 

It hadn’t been a shock when his mom had been up when he got home, somewhat a shock when she wasn’t surprised as to what he was doing and DEFINITELY a shock when she said, ‘thank the heavens’ and said she’d give him a ride to the airport. They ended up talking for hours before he realized he had to throw his clothes back into a bag and get to the airport for international travel. 

Which got him to the airport and the plane and the scanning and even with fast passing your passport it was still kind of a bitch. It was a constant state of hurry up and wait, which lasted the whole day. He did sleep on the plane, blessedly, as he wasn’t sure showing up to Tyler having not slept in over a day and a little manic because _oh my fuck he might be able to be with Tyler_ was the best choice.

He landed having just woken up, groggy as fuck and only barely paying attention to the guy who was telling them about the weather in Boston. He looked at his phone as soon as it turned off Airplane mode. It blinked over to Boston time and he was beyond happy to find it was only just past two thirty in the afternoon. 

His phone then started in on texts and the messages. He apparently had four separate messages from Tyler and about 20 texts from him. He opened the text messages and was only slightly startled to find a _freaking the fuck out_ Tyler. 

“T: _Dude._

_DUDE._

_Why aren’t you answering your fucking phone?_

_You get I was drunk last night, right._

_Marchy got me Goldschläger. You know that’s fucked._

_Fuck, answer your phone so I can talk to you._

_I can explain._

_What do you mean you too?_

_Like really? Cause fuck._

_JAMIE._

_JAMISON._

_FUCKKKKKKKK. ANNSSSWERRRR YOUURRR PHOOOONE._ ” 

He didn’t bother listening to the phone messages. He figured it was the same refrain and his stomach was pretty much in knots either way at that point. So instead he pinged Marchand with his location. Within a minute he got a simple. 

“ _Oh thank fuck_.” 

He’d only brought a carry-on, telling his mom he’d be back or she could send it back. She said that was the last of her worries and if he knew he her might even luck into some free laundry. Though he second guessed that, as fuck, he wasn’t sure if he packed anything… unsafe for mom in that bag. 

Either way, it fast-tracked him into a cab and he was o n his way to Tyler in the quickest manner possible in Boston. Which was… Fucking slow. Oh dear gd, he felt like he was going _backward_. It was 3 in the afternoon on a SUNDAY, where the hell were these people going? 

The cabbie didn’t mind telling him the Sox had just won, which made up part of it, and that this was just Boston. Jamie thanked the lord he got picked by Dallas. Man. He thought Texas traffic was a bitch. 

He took the chance to listen to the voice mails, which, he probably shouldn’t have. They had started out with a slightly groggy Tyler saying he didn’t get what the fuck had happened the night before but he liked the messages and ended with a pretty desperate sounding Tyler all but taking every single word back. He knew he was probably not being the best of … what… Friends? Lovers? More than Friends? By not at least texting him but somethings happened better face to face and he knew Tyler might rabbit out of there as soon as he knew Jamie was in the state.

Almost an hour later they ended up outside a pretty ridiculous house in the slight burbs of Boston. He’d always imagined Brad as more of an in-town condo type guy, but no it was one white picket fence away from being the American Dream. He paid the cabbie with his phone, blessed be to Apple and got out of the car with the backpack over one shoulder. 

He made it up exactly one step before the door swung open and Marchand rolled his eyes and said _loudly_ , “Oh my, whoever could it be.” Before mouthing, “Get the fuck in here.” 

“Hey,” Jamie said. “You gave me 24 hours.” 

“That was when he was sleeping,” Marchand grabbed keys off the side table and looked at him. “You are in it now, dude.” 

With that, he walked out of what Jamie could only assume to be the door to whatever room lead to the garage. 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Marchand? The door bell did…” Tyler came around the corner from who knew where and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Jamie. 

Jamie went frozen, his skin tingling. Tyler looked… well. Like total shit. Obviously hungover, unshaven, not showered and in ragged sleep pants and one of Brad’s Bruins shirts which kind of pissed Jamie off but he was going to save that crazy for a later date. Instead, he made himself move. 

He gave a small wave. “Hey.” 

“Hi?” Tyler said, blinking. “Brad totally bounced, didn’t he?” 

Jamie nodded. “Keys and everything.” 

“Fucker.” 

He fidgeted with the strap of his bag. “Uh. Can we talk?” 

“I called you. A lot,” Tyler said, scratching at the back of his neck. “About those texts. From last night?” 

Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, you don’t get much of signal at fifty thousand feet.” 

“You couldn’t have texted me that shit?” Tyler said, crossing his arms and spreading his feet. They were maybe ten feet apart but Tyler was making it very clear that there was a line in the middle that was not to be crossed. “I’ve been kind of going out of my skin. I thought I would get a call saying I was traded or some shit.” 

Jamie made a face. “You really think even if it did bug me I would be that much of a jerk?” 

“NO!” Tyler said arms spread. “I mean. No. But yes. But are you kidding me? I wake up to a cryptic text, after I told you I missed your DICK and that I missed you as more than a friend like I was eight or some shit. My brain was going to some pretty messed up places.” 

“I told you to _trust me_. Did you not read that part?” 

Tyler rubbed at his unkempt beard. “Brain. Messed up places.” 

“Look, can we find a place to sit and talk. You look like you might keel over,” Jamie observed. “Have you eaten? Drank water? Tylenol or something?” 

Tyler jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “There is freaking food here. And electrolyte water. I’m not a kid. Just pretty freaking hung over.” 

“Can we sit?” he asked again. 

Tyler walked past Jamie and Jamie followed, like he wouldn’t. He put his bag down by the front door before he did, though, as if he got kicked out he didn’t want to have to find it in a hurry. Tyler had led him to a living room with a TV the size of a freaking theater, two huge couches and an oversized chair, which he’d taken. Jamie took his cues and sat in the middle of the nearest couch, giving Tyler the room he apparently wanted. 

“You were pretty clear in the beginning what you wanted,” Jamie started. 

Tyler scoffed. “Me? You said you didn’t want monogamy period.” 

“I said I wasn’t _ready_ for that and I was right. I was like 24 and just got handed the captainship. I wasn’t ready for my own house, I shared it with my fucking brother, man. I wasn’t ready for a _relationship_. Neither, no offense, were you.” 

“Fuck you, full offense.” 

Jamie held up one hand. “You told me your only true love was Marshall.” 

“Still mostly true.” 

“Who you call mine, too.” 

“You were around a lot,” Tyler said. “Dogs get… attached.” 

Jamie scoffed. “I get attached, Tyler. I got attached to you, I got attached to your smile, your bed, your house, your mutts.” 

“Hey now.” 

“OUR mutts. I mean. I can count on one hand how many times we were separate overnight during the season, and I was injured. I thought that… I don’t know. I thought you were still just not serious. So I didn’t push. But I like you, dumb ass. More than a friend.”

He paused and got a weird look from Tyler, one like he was expecting something. He knew what he was probably expecting and he knew it was true but it took him a minute to put his mind to say it. It was big. It was big enough he’d said it to only one other person not related to him in his life and he was young and stupid and he hadn’t meant it then. 

He meant it now. 

“I love you, Tyler. I freaking love you. So if you could not kill me for not texting you I was coming and forgive me for being denser than my brother for a few years it would be kind of killer.” 

Tyler stared at him again, mouth open and then closed and suddenly he launched himself from the chair and over the couch to press Jamie down. It was a bit like when he got to Tyler’s and Cash reached him at the door. Less tongue but he figured that would only last a minute or so more. 

His arms were pinned to the arm of the couch, Tyler was hovering above him. 

“Seriously?” Tyler said, face inches from his. 

Jamie groaned. “Dude, I think I owe my first child the name Neil. And I only slept four hours total in two days so yeah. I am being freaking serious. _I love you._ ” 

“I love you, too,” Tyler smiled and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. That had never been much in their arsenal. They were usually in the ‘we will be fucking soon’ mode when kisses started. Jamie liked the soft feeling of Tyler’s lips, even with the beard tickling his upper lip. He closed his eyes and just let it roll over him. 

They lay like that for a long time, lips locked in gentle making out, Tyler lowering his body down so he was just on top of Jamie. He didn’t let go of Jamie’s hands but it didn’t matter. They were there, together, and it felt so freaking good Jamie would get the feeling back in his feelings at some point. Just not now. 

Tyler pulled back. “I want to go home.” 

“What?” Jamie said, brain a little fuzzy. “Now?” 

“Naw, Marchy already gets jealous of you all the time,” he said. “But tomorrow. You, me, the pups. Chilling out. I don’t like being away from there too long. I missed you.” 

Jamie laughed. “I know. You told me so.” 

“Getting a little cocky, eh?” Tyler ground down a bit, Jamie hissed. “I meant what I said. A plus, Jamie Benn.” 

“Let’s go home, jackass.” 

“Romantic.” 

“I want to start our life _together_ there.” 

Tyler smiled wide and planted a more often used kiss on his lips. 

They texted Marchand when it was safe to come home. 

And Jamie texted Tyler in the bathroom, where he was taking a shower. 

“ _Miss your dick. A plus, would do again._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> "I think I may have figured out why  
> Finally found the very reason  
> For all this confusion the only conclusion is love  
> Love, it must be love, love  
> For all this confusion the only conclusion is love
> 
> Yeah  
> I've done all the maths and it all adds up to her  
> It is you and me..."  
> -Jamie Lawson 'The Only Conclusion' 
> 
> Also, love to the people who catch two really random jokes. One is a pairing reference and one TV.


End file.
